Old Grudges

Having already moved far from the foot of the mountain, Hua Mantian was stunned by the sight.

In her eyes, Wang Xian suddenly seemed to shine like daylight on one side, while the other half vanished into the boundless night fog—darker even than the fog itself.

In the blink of an eye, it was as if she had returned to Hundred Flowers Tower all those years ago...

Holy shit!

Only then did the clever woman remember that the Wang Xian in Martai and Nalan Qiuqiu's stories was a bona fide devil king!

Years had passed in the blink of an eye. She had almost forgotten the six-foot-tall man from back then.

But beneath tonight's moonlight, Wang Xian stood on the mountain path, and in an instant she was back in Hundred Flowers Tower.

The corner of her mouth twitched violently. She muttered to herself, "That guy's dead!"

The bandits on the mountain, bows in hand as they fired arrow after arrow, had no idea a devil king stood before them.

Even the old monk in the plaza slashed a sword through the void, sending it toward Wang Xian.

In the night, the rain of arrows scraped through the air at high speed, trailing bright streaks of light. Boosted by the mountain's formations, they suddenly accelerated.

It was no exaggeration to say that no one in the world could withstand a rain of arrows like this!

And the old monk's sword carried such power that it seemed to hold a trace of the laws of nature, as if that single strike had come from beyond the heavens!

Just as the arrows swept through the wind and the old monk's sword pierced the void, hurtling toward Wang Xian...

The rapidly spinning black-and-white vortex seized a thread of primordial chaos from its master